


The Bargain

by days4daisy



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Bottom Thor (Marvel), Forced Incest, Forced Orgasm, M/M, Mind Control, Nonconathon Treat, Rape for an Audience, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sibling Incest, Top Loki (Marvel), unrequited feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-07
Updated: 2018-07-07
Packaged: 2019-05-31 14:41:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15121625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/days4daisy/pseuds/days4daisy
Summary: “We made a deal,” Loki says. He crawls between Thor’s legs.





	The Bargain

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Darkerchild](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darkerchild/gifts).



> Hope you enjoy this treat, Darkerchild :)

Thor wakes in a startled huff, knocking scented towels from his chest. His ribs are on fire, and his head pounds like a furious fist.

Shackles around Thor's wrists stop him from sitting up. Thor fights against them, but the only give is in his bones. Growling, Thor lies back. His legs bear chains as well, twin shackles clamped around the ankles. Metal links snake from his feet off the edge of the...bed. Thor is chained to a bed. “What the hell?” Thor asks the empty room.

His surroundings are draped in ornate red and cream. Gold-trimmed paintings match a gold statue of the mad creature the Grandmaster in the far corner. Beyond the stupid statue, the room is straightforward regality. A chamber such as this would be welcome within the palace on Asgard.

Thor again tries the binding on his wrists. The chains squeal at Thor’s testing, but they do not bend. Thor scowls and tosses his head back. His post-battle brain sloshes unhappily.

Thor is still a prisoner, but he is not in the dungeons of Sakaar. Are these to be his quarters as he awaits the Grandmaster's punishment? Why chain Thor to this bed rather than a wall or floor? It can’t be because the ruler gives a damn about his wounds.

Thor frowns at his own body. Very naked, not even a sheet offered for decorum.

Has the Grandmaster been here, making jokes over Thor's exposed skin? When Thor frees himself from these chains, and he will, he’s going to break the ruler of Sakaar in two.

How long has Thor been here? How much time has been wasted while Asgard suffers at Hela’s hand?

A buzz cues the dismantling of the forcefield separating the bedroom and Thor from the hall beyond. Thor snarls at the Grandmaster.

The creature’s eyes dance with mirth. “You’re alive, oh good! You didn’t look so hot for awhile there. Kinda gray in the face, all that blood - nasty business, bleh. But you, Sparkles, you’re a _fighter_! Scrapper-142 never lets me down, she always brings me the best stuff.”

“I would have won that fight if not for this thing on my neck,” Thor growls. “You promised freedom to the victor.”

“Gotta say,” the Grandmaster smiles, “you don’t look much like a winner right now. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I like the confidence! You’ve gotta believe in yourself to get anywhere in this life. But, heh, you got pummeled, champ. Only reason you’re alive is - well, it was out of left field! Quite the surprise. I love surprises...sometimes.”

Did Banner get through to the Hulk at the last minute? Did he reign the beast in and stop him from smashing Thor’s skull? Surely, Banner did not transform to his old self in the arena... Is he alright?

A second buzz of the barrier draws Thor’s attention before he can demand to know what’s become of the Hulk. He blinks, anger turning to surprise. “Loki?” His brother appears in an odd black robe and lounging shoes. He looks upon Thor with a winning smile.

Something is wrong.

“Did I tell you how much I love this guy?” The Grandmaster snags an arm around Loki’s waist. Thor frowns at the struggle in Loki’s smile. It’s too wide. Too vacant.

“You can imagine,” the Grandmaster drawls, “the bind it put me in when Lo here protested against my champion’s victory. This sweet thing, mmm.” He catches Loki’s earlobe between his teeth. Panic flashes in Loki’s eyes. Something is very wrong.

“Let go of my brother,” Thor barks. “ _Now._ ”

“Temper, temper!” The Grandmaster dismisses his anger with a waved hand. “Loki happens to be quite the fan of killing. He’s watched more than his fair share of executions in my court. Not to mention those battle royales before the Commodore. Great foreplay, all that blood. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

Loki’s smile strains wider. “Yes, Grandmaster,” he says.

“Delightful, isn’t he? You, Loki, you’re cute as a button.” The Grandmaster peppers his words with a kiss to Loki’s nose. “Imagine my surprise when this sweet thing demanded a bargain for your life, Sparkles. I mean, _demanded_!” He pats Loki’s cheek. “I could have had him killed on the spot, raising his voice to me like that. But I have to admit, I was tickled. I mean, he knows exactly who I am, but he still wanted to wager. For you!” The Grandmaster grins. “Isn’t that sweet?”

Thor has much to discuss with his brother, but none of this matters now. This  _thing_ is toying with the sons of Odin. Thor wants the Grandmaster's blood on the walls.

Loki’s sudden, light laugh startles Thor out of his thoughts. “How silly,” Loki says. His smile to the Grandmaster bleeds affection. “He isn’t even my brother. I can’t imagine what came over me.”

“Loki!” Thor hisses.

Loki brings the Grandmaster’s hand to his lips. “You’ve been so kind to me, Grandmaster,” he says. “So patient.”

The Grandmaster beams. “I have been kind and patient, haven’t I?” He turns towards Thor, resting his cheek on Loki’s hair. Thor reads the stutter in Loki’s step even with the hum of pleasure on his lips.

Thor will kill the Grandmaster. The thought cycles in Thor’s mind as he pulls as his restraints. He shouts and wrenches until the metal finally - _finally_ \- gives and his arms shoot off the bed.

His wrists clamp back down immediately. The Grandmaster eyes Thor with pity, a remote device - long and pink - extended towards the bed. “Really, Sparkles,” he chides, “you should know better by now.”

“Fine,” Thor says, glaring. “You have me with your little tricks. Do what you must, but leave Loki out of this.”

The Grandmaster regards the request with a puzzled brow. “You’re, ah, missing the point of a bargain, champ. You see, you’re alive because of your brother here! Or adopted, whatever, it’s complicated.” He gives Loki’s waist a squeeze. Loki laughs pleasantly. “As tempting as it is to let my beloved champion finish you, well... that wasn’t the deal. Was it, sweetness?”

“No,” Loki answers, “it certainly was not.” Thor looks between them.

The Grandmaster nudges a hand in the small of Loki’s back. “Go on then,” he urges. “A deal is a deal.” Loki takes a step towards the bed.

Without warning, Loki's serene expression shatters. His breaths quicken, and his face pales. “Let me control myself at least,” Loki hisses. “Let me-”

“Oh, oh hon, that’s an awful idea. Shhh, look at you.” The Grandmaster comes up behind Loki and cups a hand to his face. The fear flees Loki’s eyes, replaced by vacant adoration. His grimace softens to a smile.

The Grandmaster nods, apparently pleased with his handiwork. “A deal is a deal,” he says. “Am I right, Loki?”

“Of course,” Loki agrees. He blinks. “Yes. Sorry, I don’t know what came over me, I-”

“You’re already forgiven, Lo,” the Grandmaster says. “Go on. That seductive Lord of Thunder awaits.”

“Seductive _God_ of Thunder,” Thor snarls from the bed.

His anger becomes confusion when Loki turns towards him. His brother’s expression is eerily blank as he takes a stuttering step towards the bed. “Loki,” Thor tries, “I promise you, brother. Whatever he’s done, whatever he’s made you do, he will pay for it. We will make him pay together.”

The Grandmaster smiles. “Bold, that's good! No wonder my sweet thing likes you so much.”

“He’s not your _sweet thing_ ,” Thor snaps. “He is nothing to you. So if-” New weight on the mattress draws Thor's attention. Loki climbs onto the bed on his hands and knees. His eyes, dead and still, stare back into Thor’s own. “Loki,” Thor says. “Brother, what?”

“We made a deal,” Loki says. He crawls between Thor’s legs.

Thor’s heart drops to his stomach when Loki sheds his robe. He is naked beneath, a sight Thor has not seen since the bathing houses on Asgard in their youth.

Thor cannot believe… As sick and sadistic as the Grandmaster is, he wouldn't…

Loki’s hands rest cool and thin on Thor’s stomach. His lips on Thor's neck are gentle.

Thor recoils. “Are you insane?” he demands of the eager Grandmaster. “He's my brother!”

“Adopted,” Loki says against Thor’s throat. His breaths trail hot up the side of Thor’s face as he toys with Thor’s shorn hair.

Thor’s stomach churns, and anger reddens his face. “You coward,” he barks at the Grandmaster. “You damned coward!” The Grandmaster smiles. Thor’s rage boils hotter. “Are you afraid to soil your own hands?” he demands. “Are you so small, so _petty_ that you would force a man’s brother to defile him because you cannot?”

“Wow,” the Grandmaster huffs, “that’s, ah, that’s a lot to unpack. First of all, Sparkles-”

“My _name_ is-”

“We don’t like that word on Sakaar. Can’t, cannot. Sakaar is a kingdom of infinite possibilities! Before you got here Loki was taking advantage of that. Weren’t you, love?”

Loki hums, lips scratched against Thor’s beard. “Oh yes, Grandmaster,” he agrees.

“Second, I’ve ah - been called a lot of things over my many millennia, but small isn’t one of them.” The Grandmaster chuckles. “Loki can speak to that. Would you call me small, sugar plum?”

“Certainly not,” Loki laughs. His tongue traces the shell of Thor’s ear. Grimacing, Thor twists away.

“Third.” The Grandmaster makes a thoughtful sound. “Sure, every once in awhile I can be petty, I guess. But when you’re, well, me, you get to do stuff the way you want it.” He licks his lips. “Have I mentioned that your brother has the tightest little ass? _Delicious_! Gotta say, I’m kinda shocked you never went for that yourself.”

“That’s enough,” Thor grits. He blows out a breath when hands roughly pinch his nipples. “Loki, if you’re in there, you must stop this.”

“I think,” the Grandmaster muses, “I want a closer look. I need…” He fans himself across a chair beside the bed. “Oh yeah, now this is an angle.” He gawks at the rut of Loki’s hips between Thor’s thighs.

Thor faces the Grandmaster with new fury. “Coward,” he hisses.

“Yeah, see,” the Grandmaster clicks his tongue, “not a fan of that word either. I was brave enough to take your brother up on his offer, right? That doesn’t seem so bad to me. If anything, it shows that I’m a pretty nice guy. Merciful, even!”

“You-” Loki cups Thor's face, silencing him. His brother's smile is jarring as he runs thumbs along the frame of his jaw. “Loki…”

“Please, brother,” Loki says. “Don't make this worse.”

Thor is so stunned by his kiss that he cannot fight it. It is gentle and tender, two emotions he has never known from Loki even in happier times. His brother's sharpness was always Thor’s favorite of his traits. Loki was difficult to trust but presented a most delightful challenge. To Thor, whose power was only matched by Odin’s own, Loki became as necessary as he was loved.

Sourness spoils Thor’s stomach. He wrenches his head away. “This is not you,” he grits. “Take back your deal, Loki. I will handle this vile thing’s punishment.”

“This ah, vile thing is sitting right here, lord.” The Grandmaster rests a hand on Loki’s back. Loki shivers above Thor in pleasure. “Loki sweetheart, why don't you tell your sorta-brother how wrong he is? About this not being you?” Blue light floods Loki’s eyes.

Thor's alarm grows when it disappears behind squeezed eyelids. “Get out of my head!” Loki gasps. He shakes from head to toe.

“Loki?” Disapproval darkens the Grandmaster's voice. “Heavens, Sparkles, you’ve done a number on my poor sweetheart. Look at him!”

“He is _not yours_ ,” Thor snarls, but the Grandmaster is not paying attention.

Loki shakes his head frantically, teeth fenced with tension. “Loki,” the Grandmaster prods.

When Loki’s eyes reopen, he gazes at Thor like it's the first time; eyes wide, mouth a soft oval of adoration. “I love you,” Loki says.

At times in their long lives, Thor would have given anything for Loki to declare his fidelity so openly. But this is not Thor's brother; the sentiment is poison on his forced tongue.

Loki kisses Thor’s cheek and nuzzles his nose in his hair. “I've long desired this,” Loki whispers. “I've long desired you.”

“Loki, enough,” Thor hisses.

“So strong, so sure.” A hoarse laugh. “How I hated you for your beauty, Thor. How I've wanted to possess you-"

“ _Enough_ , Loki.”

“How I dreamed of tasting you.” His tongue sweeps one nipple, and Thor fights against his chains. Loki sighs, oblivious to his distress. “How I yearned for this. I've wanted you for so long.”

Loki’s thigh rubs between Thor’s own. Thor bucks angrily in his cuffs. “Is the act not enough?” Thor demands of the Grandmaster. “Must you humiliate us with these - these disgusting lies!?”

The Grandmaster smiles. “Lies? Really?”

Loki's kiss mutes Thor’s growl. The tip of Loki’s nose rubs his own.

Thor’s protests die the moment he sees the tears in Loki’s eyes. One rolls slowly down Loki's cheek, but it brings no change to Loki’s expression. His smile remains, face a vapid mask blushed with coy warmth.

Lies. They must be.

Thor groans dismay as Loki slithers down his body. His eager mouth sucks the column of Thor’s throat as he tests the bruises on Thor’s ribs. Aches vibrate from every pluck of his brother’s fingers. Loki’s hair tickles his neck as exhales ghost across his mouth-damp skin.

Thor steels himself with grit teeth as Loki slinks lower. His mouth takes its time feasting on the open plain of Thor’s skin. Thor’s chest draws a hum of pleasure. Loki’s tongue drags up the deep cleft as his fingers pluck and tease at his nipples. Thor blows out a labored breath. His chest rises and falls heavily. It is a natural effect, a warm mouth and warm hands so eager to please. Desire twists with the rage and horror in Thor’s belly.

An angled look finds the Grandmaster watching, his grin wide and full of teeth. Thor would rip every single one from his mouth if he could.

“Loki sweetheart?” The Grandmaster scoots closer. “Your brother’s looking a little strung out. Why don’t you help get him going, hmm?”

“You’ll be strung out when I’m through with you,” Thor barks. The Grandmaster grins at his taunting.

Thor shudders in startled surprise when Loki eases his thighs apart. His brother’s bony fingers arch between his legs, urging them wide as the shackles allow. Loki’s eyes are all affection as he gazes up the kiss-touched expanse of Thor’s body. “Relax,” he says. “I'll look after you.” Loki’s hooded gaze settles on Thor’s cock. His smile opens, tongue sweeping his lips in appreciation.

“Loki,” Thor says, “brother, stop this.”

Loki’s mouth is wet and warm when it winds around Thor’s shaft. This new torture is patient and slow. Loki holds him at the crown, suckling gently. His fingers knead lines into Thor’s thighs. His tongue, well-versed - of course it is, that silver tongue - teases across the slit. Loki traces the ridged fold of Thor’s cockhead, cheeks hollowed in.

Thor looks away from him, sweating. They may not be of shared blood, but Loki is his brother all the same. They were raised together, they played together, they fought side by side!

Loki’s head bobs lower. A shudder rolls through Thor’s hips, and a slippery, wet heat boils in his loins. His shaft swells inside Loki’s mouth. Thor’s grimaced glare finds his brother warm in the face. Loki's mouth loops wider around Thor’s girth. He seems to enjoy the strain on his tongue, if his soft rumble of pleasure is any indication.

Thor tosses his head back to the pillow in fury. He yanks at his cuffs and kicks at the chains on his ankles.

He shivers when the warmth around his cock fades. “Thor, please.” Loki whispers against his skin. “Fighting will only make it worse.”

Thor’s laugh is strained. “Fighting is what I chose, Loki. I chose the contest. A rigged contest, but I chose it all the same. I didn’t choose this. You chose this humiliation  _against my wishes_.”

“And how many times have you decided my fate for me?” Loki wears a bitter smile; for a moment, he looks like his true self. “Is only the one true son of Odin allowed to toy with the lives of others?”

“Loki-”

“Lie still, dearest sibling.” Loki settles himself between Thor’s legs. “I’ll be gentle.”

“Gentle? Really?” Thor snarls at the Grandmaster's voice. “I don’t know about that, Lo. But well...ok, fine.” The Grandmaster waves a permissive hand. “Run with it. He’s your brother, your...whatever. You do you.”

Thor screams frustration when his half-hard cock is engulfed again. His brother’s mouth is sweet as any Thor has had, and it tends to him unselfishly. Loki takes his time easing Thor down his throat. His cheeks hollow as he lowers his head. His tongue is silked pressure along Thor’s cock. His lips grow wet from his own saliva, slick and smooth embraced around Thor’s size.

Thor chews on a cheek. He tries to focus on the many ways he will dismember the Grandmaster when he has the chance. He will not think of Loki’s mouth nuzzling deeper into his lap. He will not think of the sweep of his hair across his thighs, or the calm fingers urging Thor’s legs wider.

Desire shivers through Thor’s stomach. He clenches against it, lip snagged between his teeth. This is his brother; this is _wrong_.

A thumb between Thor’s legs freezes Thor like winter. The touch is wet with oil and smears in a slow circle around Thor’s hole. It is a startling sensation, igniting nerves Thor has never considered before now. Thor has taken male lovers, of course. But Thor, then Prince of Asgard, took them. He was not taken.

“Here we go,” the Grandmaster enthuses, “heeeere we go.” He leans over his crossed legs, hands bridged in delight.

“Loki,” Thor says, trying to keep the panic from his voice, “you must stop this. Loki, you cannot-!” His voice chokes away. Loki’s thumb circles him, buried to the nail.

Loki lifts his head, expression one of utter rapture. Thor has never seen anything like this look from his brother before. “Peace, brother,” Loki whispers. “I’ll be good to you.”

“Loki, this is wrong, this is madness!” His voice catches. Loki’s other thumb has joined the first. They press into him, nail to nail. Slow strokes ease into muscles that want nothing more than to sew shut. Odd pinpricks tickle Thor’s thighs. He groans; Loki’s mouth is on him again. Sweet and wet, he suckles Thor’s shaft to a deeper blush.

“He has a wonderful mouth, doesn’t he?” the Grandmaster croons. His dark, hungry eyes absorb Loki’s body. “And those hands? Mmm. My sweet Loki-”

“He’s not yours!” Thor's voice is a wilted shadow of his prior fury. “You’re-” he stiffens. Loki’s thumbs stretch him to a gaping ‘o.’ “You’re crazy,” Thor hisses.

The Grandmaster taps a long finger against his chin. “Actually, he _is_ mine," he says. "You’re mine too, you know. Everything on Sakaar is mine. I found you, you see. I found everything, and that’s my gift to you. I don’t know where you came from, Sparkles. Assplace, Assberg.”

“Asgard!” Thor grits.

Shrugging, the Grandmaster sits beside Thor on the bed. The Grandmaster crosses his legs, sandaled foot bouncing. “Whoever tossed you away wasn't fond of you,  by the looks of things. But none of that matters here. You are precious to me, and - heh, clearly you’re precious to your lovely brother too.”

Sweat builds on Thor’s brow. He is hot with anger, hotter still with the shame of his body’s relentless reactions to his brother’s tongue. Loki somehow seems to know him beyond the affection of their youth. His head moves with sweet precision, swallowing Thor’s girth as if he’s prepared for this very moment. There is no struggle as he swallows, no gagging or stuttered hesitation. Loki descends on Thor like his throat understands the challenge of Thor’s size.

The Grandmaster’s manicured hand cups Thor’s cheek. “You know, I’m starting to think Lo was right about letting you live. I can see a real future for you here, Sparkles. You just have to learn the rules, that’s all.”

“I’m going to kill you,” Thor says. His words break in the middle. Loki’s thumbs are in to the first knuckle, stroking him inside with a squish of thick oil. The sensation is strange.

The Grandmaster answers Thor’s threat with a pitying smile. “Kill me? Sorry, champ, no can do,” he says, “but that optimism - that’s good! You’ve got fire, I like that.” His smile grows, showing teeth. “I like you.”

Thor holds his stare, murder in his eyes.

“Loki sweetheart?” The Grandmaster’s gaze flits down Thor’s body. “Can we pick up the pace? Your brother looks kinda bored here.”

Thor's cock is thankfully freed. It stands blood red and glossy from Loki’s mouth, milky smears of precum about the head. Loki’s eyes are barely open, the green beneath his eyelids almost dark enough to be black. “Yes, Grandmaster,” he breathes, seconds before he gathers Thor’s balls onto his tongue.

Thor grits his teeth against a moan and squeezes his eyes shut. His waist arches of its own accord.

A stab of panic freezes Thor when Loki's middle and index finger replace his thumbs. Deeper, they flex and twist about inside him. Thor cannot bite back his groan, stomach clenched against the sensation. Loki moves slowly, but it is still strange to be filled thus, stranger still to be filled by one’s own family.

“Easy, Thor,” Loki murmurs. The words hum against underside of Thor’s cock. He follows with his tongue, dragged up the vein prominent up the curve of his shaft.

Loki’s fingers plunge deeper, squelching wet with oil. Lubricant dribbles from Thor’s stretched hole. It wets the sheets beneath him in unpleasant fashion. Loki’s fingers push deeper. Thor’s hips jump, and a startled sound strangles from his lips.

“Ohhh.” The Grandmaster’s delight comes with a clap. “There, yeah, right there. Do that again, Lo, would you?”

“I am going to-” Thor’s threat cracks into nothing. Pure sensation seizes his core like a clenching fist. He feels new heat on his face, it spreads down his throat and blossoms like spring across his chest.

“Nice, very nice,” the Grandmaster purrs. “He sounds - I think he’s good, Lo. He’s ready for you. I know you’re ready too, sweetheart. You’ve been dreaming about this, haven’t you? You’ve been waiting so long, poor thing.”

“Loki.” Thor hates the sound of his own voice. “Don’t do this.”

Loki is already on his knees, oil-wet hands streaking on Thor’s thighs. His cheeks are warm, and the smile on his lips is a mere quirk. “I have,” he whispers. “A long time.” Thor’s heart pounds in his chest. He tears at his chains.

“Oh hon.” The Grandmaster has the gall to sound sympathetic when he smiles at Loki. “It’s been tough, I know. We won’t make you wait any longer, go on.”

A quiet laugh falls from Loki’s lips as he coaxes Thor’s legs further apart. The shackles around Thor’s ankles clang in protest, but not enough to stop Loki from urging his hips to arch. Thor is spread wide, a burn in his thighs. His body is not accustomed to this gaping openness. Thor feels wet and unusual inside. The slightest twitch is a reminder of how empty he is, how wide his stretched asshole must look.

Loki’s thumb scales from the base of Thor’s cock to his navel. His expression is soft and odd. “Never doubt that I love you, Thor,” he says.

Thor closes his eyes miserably. How dare he say this. Of anything he could say, even under the control of the Grandmaster…

Loki’s cock is much larger than his fingers. He moves slowly, pressing in to the head. It does not matter. Stretched though Thor is, his body spasms in panic, and pain reverberates off every nerve. He gasps and twists, new sweat on his face. “Shhh,” Loki says above him. “Stay with me.”

“I’m more of a bandage man myself,” the Grandmaster muses. He strokes Thor’s hair. “One motion, you know. Get the worst over with, one go. Do they have that saying where you all are from? Bandage, Loki, bandage. You’re dragging it out!”

“Loki,” Thor hisses. All anger has fled his voice, leaving only panic, “Loki, don’t-”

Loki’s hips snap forward, filling Thor in one go. Thor gasps a hoarse cry and shrinks back into the sheets. The pain is immense, wilting him within Loki’s incessant grip. His body seizes up, shaking with tension.

“There, there.” The Grandmaster gives Thor’s head an affectionate pat. “You’re doing great, Sparkles, just fantastic.”

Loki does not move for a time. The soreness ebbs somewhat, uncomfortable but without the shock of sudden movement. Loki gives Thor’s cock an encouraging squeeze. Groaning, ill, Thor feels his body respond. His legs feel like jelly, and his cock throbs in Loki’s coaxing hand.

When Loki resumes motion, he takes his time. His thrusts are slow, testing. Thor bites his teeth at a movement. Loki’s thumb circles his saliva-slick balls. Thor’s breath pants out. He shudders at the hand in his hair, but he refuses to look, even when he hears the Grandmaster’s, “Mmm, delightful.”

Thor tries to go numb. He squeezes his eyes shut and bites the inside of a cheek. It’s an impossible task though, Loki knows him too well. Loki's free hand sprawls across Thor’s stomach. Every few moments, it clenches, bridging knuckles above Thor’s abdomen. The skin here is sensitive, made more so by bruises earned in battle with the Hulk. Thor cannot help his groan.

Loki takes him in a mounting fervor, and Thor cannot deny him. His body is the ultimate traitor. It relays his pleasure with every twitch and shiver. His hips jump of their own accord, and Loki follows where he leads. He delves deeper, harder, until Thor’s cry wrenches from him. He is miserable, and he is on fire. His body shudders with need, all goosebumps and desire, even as bile rises in his throat. Thor squeezes his legs against the sensation.

“Thor,” Loki gasps above him.

His fist squishes wet around Thor’s cock. Nails bite into the bruises on Thor’s ribs, and Thor shouts. Even bound, his power flexes, sizzling hot around his fingers. Thor comes, shooting on himself in hot, unbridled spurts. Shame and anger cramp in his gut. Thor feels sick.

He moans at the spill of sudden heat inside him. _Loki’s seed_ , Thor's mind reminds him. His brother’s cum fills him, dripping out as he removes himself. Thor feels himself leaking, oil and seed mingling on the bed sheets. Thor cannot close himself, his legs are weak and his asshole gapes too wide.

“That was good,” the Grandmaster enthuses with a round of polite applause. “That was so good. I, ah, I love family bonding, you know? It's sweet, so sweet. Touching!” He musses Thor’s hair. “I guess you’ve earned yourself another day, Sparkles.” Thor does not look at him.

He feels the mattress shift, signaling their host rising. “I trust you can find your way back from here, right Lo?”

If Loki answers, the response is not given out loud. The next sound Thor hears is the hum of the room’s electric barrier opening and closing again.

It is silent. Thor keeps his eyes closed, looking only at the blackness behind his own lids. The wetness between his thighs is unpleasant. His cock is wet and cool, and a shudder of disdain rolls through him.

Gritting his teeth, he forces himself to look.

Loki kneels on the far side of the bed. He’s found his robe and already pulled it over his shoulders. His arms are wrapped tightly around himself, red-rimmed eyes down and wet.

“Loki.” It takes effort for Thor to say his name without grimacing.

Loki looks at Thor. He takes a breath through lips that shake at a corner.

A moment passes, then Loki stalks to the room’s perimeter forcefield. After punching in an access code, he leaves without another word.

Thor drops his head back to the mattress. He is still chained by all four limbs, a mess of cum, saliva, and sweat. Thor closes his eyes. Lying as still as he can, he tries not to think.

* The End *


End file.
